


the sum of all the possible histories

by tobeconvincedoflove



Series: TRC Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, adam is a lawyer, adam is deaf, okay so like they're older in this so, robert parrish is his own warning but nothing violent happens, ronan is a good husband, they own a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 02:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobeconvincedoflove/pseuds/tobeconvincedoflove
Summary: Robert Parrish is arrested on a DUI. He's assigned a public defender, who just happens to be his son.





	the sum of all the possible histories

**Author's Note:**

> this is a double prompt fill:  
> -someone asked for a completely deaf adam au  
> -betterbekind on tumblr: have you ever thought about writing a fic where adam has to confront his parents later in life? maybe he sees his dad after he's graduated and is visiting the barnes (home, visiting home) or he reflects on his family when him and ronan finally get married
> 
>  
> 
> There's references to child abuse, because it's Robert Parrish. There's also vague homophobia, but no use of direct slurs, just Robert Parrish's disdain at Ronan and Adam's relationshipo. Those are the only warnings I can think of right now. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, like I did research and I know some ASL, but I'm not deaf or HoH. Please let me know if there's any glaring errors or things I did incorrectly.

Just when Adam thinks his day can’t get any worse, Robert Parrish is brought into the room. It’s been a morning of meeting client after client, reading quickly through case files and trying his best to prepare those who want to fight their charges. He has, on a good week, five times the amount of cases he’s supposed to, on a week like today easily double that. But if he wants to be a district attorney the best stepping stone is doing the time as a public defender. 

And that’s how he meets Robert Parrish again. Adam has already met with all of the other clients being held at this facility, too poor to post bail, and this was the last one before he has to go back to the roach-infested office and try his best to help these people. It’s worth it when he knows they’re innocent or the charges are bullshit to the crime, but it’s not when there’s men like Robert Parrish. Adam treats them all the same, because it’s not his job to judge. It’s his job to help. 

Even if it’s his father. 

“I want another fucking lawyer,” his dad says to a guard, who just laughs and secures Robert Parrish to the table. 

“Hello, I’m Adam Parrish, and I’ll be your attorney,” Adam says, hopes that maybe he can avoid the worst of whatever Robert is thinking if he just pretends it’s anyone else. 

“You talk now?” Robert Parrish’s voice is gruff, shedding anger. Adam forces himself to look up; his father looks as bad as it had been when Adam was a teenager; his hair is longer, more wild, his face redder and marked more, eyes deeper set, a little less bulky, but a little more fat. The scrubs are ill-fitting. Adam feels a small surge of superiority, as much as he hates it. Even though Adam refuses to cave and fulfill Ronan’s fantasy of Adam in a custom-tailored suit, the one he’s wearing today fits him well, and his hair is neatly trimmed, and his skin is clear and tan. “Can you fucking hear me, or are you going to be useless?”

“Yes, I can hear you,” Adam responds, trying hard to keep his voice calm and professional. 

“So you were just faking it, tryna get me in jail?” Robert’s southern accent is strong. “Knew you were lying.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. I am deaf, but a few years ago I received Cochlear implants, so when I wear the external device I can hear,” Adam explains. He knows the large devices are visible on his ears, on his skull; Ronan likes the undercut look on Adam, wants Adam not to be ashamed of the device. “Now, we should discuss the details of your case.” 

“How did you afford those?” Robert Parrish asks instead. “Oh, I see the wedding ring now. That’s nice gold. Marry a rich girl?”

“You were arrested on the charge of driving under the influence. The breathalyzer showed a BAC of .17%. Do you want to fight the charges or plead out?” Adam asks, completely ignoring the rest. He doesn’t have the time for this, not today. 

“Fight it,” Robert grunts. “You didn’t send your mamma anything about a wedding.” 

“There is clear evidence that you were over twice the legal level to drive. If you plead out, the sentence will likely be reduced,” Adam says. He tries not to force plea deals on clients who don’t want them, but the evidence is compelling in this case; it’s not a winnable case.

“It worked well enough with you.” Robert Parrish’s voice is ice cold. “Now, I’m going to ask you one more fucking time. What rich fuck did you marry? Someone from that pansy ass law school?”

“Ronan Lynch,” Adam responds, has never been more grateful that Robert Parrish can’t lash out across the table. “My husband is Ronan Lynch. Not that it’s your business. I don’t have much time, and we need to discuss legal options.”

“Always knew you were one of _them_ ,” Robert Parrish spits. “I don’t want you as my lawyer.”

“Well, I’m what you’ve got. I am strongly recommending a guilty plea. It’s your second offense within five years, and the judge is more likely to lessen the sentence than if you fight it. You could get up to a year if you lose.” Adam’s voice is clinical, cold. 

“M’ not gonna lose,” Robert says. “I’m not taking a fucking deal.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you in court. Your hearing is in four days. The trial will likely be within a month.” And then Adam stands to leave. Robert tries to stand, is stuck to the table, is immediately forced back down by guards. 

“You think you’re so much better than me now, with your fancy suit and ring and degree. You’re a fucking embarrassment.” And then the guards are taking Robert Parrish away. 

Adam doesn’t know how he’s going to get through this.

:: ::

“Hey. You’re home early,” Ronan says, when Adam walks in the door. Adam just faceplants on the couch, dropping his bag next to him. “Oh.”

Adam says something completely unintelligible, his face smashed into the pillow. 

“English, please,” Ronan says, sitting on the coffee table. “Or ASL. Or Latin, I guess. I don’t know. Just pick a human language. Not couch cushion.” 

Adam responds by hauling himself into a seated position, head hanging low as his elbows rest on his knees. Gently, carefully, he takes off the external speech processors, unwilling to hear his own breath mechanically make its way into his brain. Ronan just taps a hand, and when Adam shakes his head Ronan’s hand gently cups Adam’s chin, lifts it so Adam’s eyes meet his. They’re watery. 

“What happened?” Ronan signs, face creased. Adam shakes his head, wipes underneath his nose with his wrist. He’d held it together the entire day, had went through briefs and went to court and worked on case after case after case until he couldn’t do it any longer. 

“My father,” Adam signs, hand lingering near his forehead. Instantly, Ronan is next to Adam on the couch, knees and thighs and sides pressed together. His hand takes Adam’s in his own. 

“What happened?” Ronan asks, hands moving swiftly, a hint of frustration making the movements choppy. 

“He got a second DUI. I’ve been assigned to his case,” Adam explains, eyes lost and vacant. “He’s not going to plead out.”

“What are you going to do?” Ronan knows better, now, after everything with Glendower and Cabeswater and their teenage years, than to respond with the anger that’s bubbling in his gut. It’s the same anger he felt as he sat next to Adam in the weeks after Robert Parrish deafened his son, trying to learn lip reading and sign language and everything else Adam suddenly needed just to live daily life. 

“I’ll do my best. It doesn’t…” Adam hesitates. “It doesn’t look good for him. It’s second time in five years, and any of the judges he’s likely going to get aren’t forgiving when they fight the charges. He could go to jail for over a year. They could lose the trailer.” 

“He didn’t listen to your legal advice,” Ronan summarizes. “Was he surprised, that it was you?”

“He was angry,” Adam admits. “He thought that me… that because I could hear and talk to him, that I was lying about being deaf.” 

Ronan pulls Adam close, one hand going around Adam’s back, the other cradling the back of his head. Adam seems to cling to him, feels Ronan’s steady pulse and breathing and focuses on that sensation rather than anything else. Eventually, Ronan pulls away just enough so they can talk. 

“Are you going to be okay? Working this case?” Ronan asks, fingers grazing Adam’s cheek when they’re done speaking. 

“I can do it. I’ll try my best to help him, even if he hates me for it,” Adam says, tries to manage a smile, but by the look on Ronan’s face he doesn’t quite manage it. “It’s stupid. I looked at him and I felt like I was a kid again. Like I was the one taking him to court.”

“It’s okay to…” Ronan stops mid-phrase, bites his lip. “He put you through hell. You don’t have to be able to face him and feel nothing about it, Adam.” Adam’s name sign is something special. It’s the sign for magician, but instead of curled fists at the beginning, it uses an A. Ronan rarely uses it, preferring to use the delightfully literal curse words ASL offers. 

“I know, it’s just… no matter what I do, it’s the wrong thing. I know, I know it doesn’t matter but just listen, okay?” Adam pauses, allows himself one chuckle at the irony. “He hated it when I couldn’t really talk, because I was deaf, and now he hates that I can, because of the implants. He hated that I had a rich wedding band, hates it more when I told him who I married.” 

“His opinion doesn’t mean shit,” Ronan signs quickly. “You told him we’re married?”

Adam nods. Ronan takes one of Adam’s hands, kisses the knuckles gently. 

Not for the first time, Adam thinks they’ve become softer with age. Ronan had offered to by Adam Cochlear implants the second he knew Adam had gone deaf, and it had been a bigger argument than the St. Agnes rent would be. After Adam graduates law school, Adam lets his newfound insurance and Ronan make it happen; he had made it through undergrad at Yale, had made it through fucking Harvard Law School without them, and it’s not like he needs them to work. It was wanting to hear Ronan tell Adam he loves him, wanting to hear Blue and Gansey’s wedding vows, wanting to even fucking hear Murder Squash again.

The first thing Ronan had done, after the surgery and the recovery and the appointments, when they finally turned on the external devices was tell Adam he loved him. The second thing he had done was play the Murder Squash song. 

He focuses on that, focuses on their dog laying his head in Adam’s lap. Ronan had wanted to dream a dog, but he made the mistake of letting Adam take him to a shelter first. One look at Adam looking at the golden retriever puppy, so small and scared, and that had been it. 

Bandsaw Parrish-Lynch (alternatively named Banjo by Blue and the asshole actually answers to both) has been waking them up by jumping on the bed ever since. 

Actually, Bandsaw is currently laying across Adam, and Adam’s hands go to run through the soft fur. Sometimes, Ronan isn’t sure that he didn’t dream the damn dog, because from day one the dog had loved Adam Parrish, knows when Adam needs the unconditional love and just lays on top of Adam until Adam gets it, too. 

Chainsaw lands on Adam’s shoulder.

They’ve always gotten weird looks, their block of DC side-eyeing the rising lawyer and his tattooed, dangerous-looking husband and their weird family. Ronan hates how close they live to Declan, loves how close it is to both of their jobs (apparently the Smithsonian thought Ronan’s Latin expertise was an asset), loves how it put distance between Adam and Henrietta. 

Or, he thought it had. 

Ronan kisses Adam’s hand again. He’s already beat up Robert Parrish, wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if he tries anything. It’s nowhere near the same as that week, when Adam had told an ancient forest that it couldn’t have his ears, but gifted it his eyes and ears; Ronan is so glad that the sum of all of their possible histories added up to them together on this couch. The demons and the nightmares and the dreams and the hours spent in St. Agnes, and the result is something better than they thought they could have. 

Ronan had thought he was going to die before he could legally drink. Adam had known that his father was going to kill him one day, that he was doomed to die in the dust outside of their trailer. 

Adam scratches Bandsaw’s ear, leans against Ronan. Their left hands link, rings clinking just a little. 

For the first time all day, Adam allows himself an exhale.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hoped you liked it. Fun fact: my first word was in ASL (milk). If you have a prompt/something you want to see, feel free to shoot me a comment or a message on tumblr (thoseunheard). Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
